


Jessica Fletcher and Lieutenant Columbo (couldn't fathom out what's wrong with you)

by orphan_account



Category: Castle
Genre: 5x04, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Sometimes, I feel like I'm dating Jessica Fletcher.</i>  </p><p>Vague references to spoilers for 5x04.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jessica Fletcher and Lieutenant Columbo (couldn't fathom out what's wrong with you)

**Author's Note:**

> There are, oh, so many reasons that I needed to write this: the title and spoilers for 5x04; the fact that I once read that Nathan Fillion has never seen _Murder, She Wrote_ ; my own love of _Murder, She Wrote_ and Angela Lansbury; the similarities and differences between that show and _Castle_... 
> 
> Title from Scouting for Girls _Murder Mystery_.

She waited for him to close the door behind the two police detectives before she tilted her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes. 

The cushions dipped with his weight as he sat beside her. "Isn't this awesome? I bet it was a _crime passionel_." She could hear the suppressed excitement in his voice. "Murder and intrigue in the city of love. Oh, Beckett, isn't it amazing?" 

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm dating Jessica Fletcher." 

"Huh?" His mind was clearly still on the drama of their morning, no doubt already spinning implausible theories about Parisian catacombs, secret agents and femmes fatales. 

" _Murder, She Wrote_?" She tilted her head towards him and opened one eye. "Mystery writer with a habit of finding herself in close proximity to murders?" 

He grinned, leaning back and resting his head against his hand. "Never watched it." 

"Maybe you should. Seriously, Castle, I can't take you anywhere. It's like you're a magnet for dead bodies, or something." 

"Come on, it's not that bad." 

"What?" She opened both eyes now, and sat up. "Our first weekend in the Hamptons, there was the dead guy in your pool. That trip to LA for the movie premiere? Natalie Rhodes' best friend died in suspicious circumstances and we were the only ones who could see that it was murder. The first time I came to visit while you were on a book tour, we got embroiled in that serial killer case in Seattle." She spared a glance at the luxurious surroundings of their suite. "We're in Paris, Castle. We're on vacation, in a foreign country, and you manage to stumble over a dead body the first time we try to leave our hotel room." 

"You can't blame me for this." There was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. 

She huffed out a breath. "It was your idea to leave the room." 

"Yeah, you were a little… reluctant." He leered at her. "Still, that doesn't make it my fault. Before I met you, the dead bodies were all fictional. You're the homicide detective in this relationship. Maybe you're the one magically attracting the dead." 

She poked him in the chest with her finger. "And what about that fishing trip you took with my dad, huh? The body in the lake. I wasn't there that time. Or when you and Alexis took that road trip and 'accidentally' solved a thirty year-old cold case." She shook her head. "And I can't believe you've never watched _Murder, She Wrote_. For some reason I assumed that a show about an author meddling in homicide investigations would appeal to you." 

"As a writer who assists the NYPD in solving murders," he gave her a look of mock offense, "I can appreciate the premise, but do you watch every police procedural on TV? No, you don't." 

It was a fair point, she supposed. 

"But really, it's because of Angela Lansbury." 

"You have a problem with her?" 

"Not me, my mother. She never told me the whole story, but she's held a grudge against Angela Lansbury for as long as I can remember. As a child I was forbidden from watching any of her movies, and in adulthood I guess it just became a habit, especially once my mother moved back in with me." He leaned closer to whisper conspiratorially. "Alexis's Disney collection is still incomplete." 

"You deprived your daughter of _Beauty and the Beast_? That's cruel." 

"Oh no, she borrowed it from a friend once and smuggled it into her room when she thought I wasn't looking." His smile was nostalgic. "She was always so well behaved, but she could be quite a sneaky kid sometimes." 

"Well, she is your daughter." She nudged him companionably with her elbow. "Have you really never seen even one episode of _Murder, She Wrote_?" 

"Not a single one." He spoke proudly, like it was an achievement. 

"But it's in re-runs all the time. There were like twelve seasons or something." 

"Exactly." He smiled triumphantly. "That's where the whole scenario falls down. The likelihood of a mystery author actually being present at so many murder scenes and successfully solving the crimes…" He trailed off, his smile slipping. "Oh." 

"Yeah. Care to explain, Mrs Fletcher?" 

He shook his head. "If you don't count the murder scenes I've visited while shadowing you, then I'm nowhere near as bad as Jessica Fletcher. Still, twelve years _is_ pretty impressive." He looked thoughtful. "I've managed to stay at the Precinct for just over five years, but my friendship with the mayor is not going to be able to keep me there forever. Perhaps I should watch this show and get some tips for how to 'meddle in homicide investigations' without getting kicked out by nasty NYPD captains." He grinned. "I wonder if it's on Netflix." 

"If not, I'll get you the box set for Christmas." She quirked an eyebrow. "I won't tell Martha if you don't." 

"Deal." He held out a hand to shake on it. 

She took his hand but didn't shake it, instead bringing it to her lap and cradling it there. "And it wouldn't be the end of the world, okay?" She wasn't sure if she was reassuring herself or him. "If we have to stop working together sometime, then that's just the way it is. It won't change us." 

"I know." His smile softened and the confidence in his eyes helped her believe her own words. 

Then his serious expression gave way to the look that told her he was about to ruin the moment. "Besides, with the way our luck's going, we'd still trip over bodies and have to investigate murders in our spare time, even if I wasn't shadowing you at the Precinct." 

She rolled her eyes and tried not to think how inappropriate it was that she found the thought comforting. 

"Speaking of which," He leaned forward, "What's our next move?" 

"I was thinking room service for lunch, since we never made it to the restaurant and they're probably closed by now." 

"I meant the case. Don't you want to get out there and find out what happened?" 

"It's not my investigation, Castle." 

"So that's it?" He looked slightly disappointed. "No posturing about jurisdiction or showing the local yokels how it's done?" 

"Sorry." She patted his hand consolingly. "We're so far outside my jurisdiction I didn't even bring my badge. I'm sure the French police can handle it." 

His downcast expression brightened suddenly as he pulled her towards him with their joined hands. "But we found the body, so we're probably suspects, right?" 

She laughed, allowing him to tug her into his lap. "Persons of interest to the investigation, at best." 

"Whatever." His hands landed on her hips, sliding around to hold her firmly against him. "Maybe they've got us under surveillance. Wouldn't want to do anything that makes us look suspicious. We should probably just stay right here in the room." 

"All day?" She bit her lip and tilted her head down, studying him from beneath her lashes. "Whatever will we do?" 

His smile morphed into that wide-mouthed grin that she'd seen nearly every morning since that first time she'd brought him coffee in his bed. Then he started to speak. 

"Uh-uh, Castle." She stopped him, leaning in to press their cheeks together so she could physically feel that smile against her own as she whispered in his ear. "Show, don't tell." 

**End**


End file.
